Danger Close
by The Fallen Sun
Summary: With the leaders of the rival Gangs dead, fleeing or in hiding why are the Saints still under constant siege? When the Boss comes under ambush with her top lieutenants and they're saved by a group of mysterious, professional mercenaries can the Saints finally turn the war around? Or will they crumble under the wild cards and their foes?


**AN: First Saint's Row fanfic here. I'm no stranger to the game, nor the series having just beat Saints Row 4 but I find that 3 has a better world to go in. I think this one timeline wise would take place after Saints Row 3 has ended, but the other gangs are refusing to leave. Perhaps it will be revealed in the plot later on if people R&R enough? Who knows. Enjoy folks~!**

**- The Fallen Sun**

* * *

The Boss took care of herself. There was no doubt about that. Standing at a rather tall five feet eleven inches, border lining on six, she managed to look most men in the eye with her own pair of pale green. They were in a constant venomous look for she was always stressed. It showed a bit around her eyes and mouth as it was curled in a near permanent scowl. It was this way now, but this time in pain as she gripped her shoulder. Blood swelled from beneath her fingers and she managed to get to a knee, firing off several shots into a clustered group of Morningstar thugs behind their own car. There were several more like their own, all packed full with men, women, guns and explosives.

"Fuck where did they all come from?" Pierce Washington shouted over the near drowning sounds of his automatic.

"Don't care, keep shooting them." Shaundi snapped back. "Boss, you okay?"

She gave a nod, firing another shot and hitting a potential sniper through his right eye, sending him spiraling to the ground dead before he was still. "Where's our back up?" she managed to growl.

Pierce ducked down, shots rattling the hood of their car. He shakily reloaded. "The hell if I know." He said before popping back up.

"Call them again, Shaundi."

"You got it."

* * *

Marcellus Black was no stranger to blood. He reloaded his customized LMG and placed it on his back as he pulled out his KA-1 Kobra. Both weapons were supplied with plentiful ammo due to Ultor and with a bitter scowl he realized that without them his small group of mercenaries couldn't have gotten to Steelport and began their work. Ultor gave them one job and that was to clear out the gang presence. They stressed about the Saints but after some negotiating, mostly involving Marc's fist in the CEO's stomach a few times, they weren't going to waste their resources on some hopped up celebrities. They were after threats, not thrill seekers.

"Dusty, take a look at this."

Marcellus' callsign on the job was Dusty, mostly for his many tours in the Middle East. One of which brought him back on a hospital bed and two medals. He was tossed a phone and he flipped it open to a number labeled S-Lieutenant. With a perked brow underneath his half-mask he brought it to his ear.

"Where the fuck are you guys?" a angered female voice screamed in his ear. "We're getting ripped apart. Morningstar are everywhere! You lot better not be getting baked or so help me after we're finished in the park-"

He closed the phone and threw it to the ground before stamping down on it. He gave a small wave of his hand and his three associates Tower, Bigtop and Skyscraper left the room. The four saints that were there were riddled with bullets, a messy but cleaner operation the foursome had in their thus far three week stay in Steelport. They exited the building and Tower took the wheel, Bigtop while gripping his cowboy hat took his position on the humvee's gun and Skyscraper rested in the back, gripping his dual grenade launcher. Dusty sat beside Tower who was humming a song, a nervous gesture he noticed.

"So what will we do when we get there, Dusty?" Bigtop asked over the comm.

"Clear out Morningstar, head home."

"What about the Saints?"

Dusty only shrugged. "Not my problem. We're here to keep all gangs in check. The Saints are nothing more then celebrities trying to make a buck, let them."

"But they have a gang too why don't we just take them all down at once? I'm sure a lieutenant has some value."

"We're keeping them in check, not outing them. That's our job, no more, no less."

With a grunt Bigtop checked the minigun. "Fine, fine, but those Saints start shooting at us…"

"We return fire and kill them, standard terms of engagement, Top."

"Either way, we're here."

They rolled up just behind the Morningstar. Without a sound between them they got to their roles. Tower took his place on the minigun now as Bigtop moved to a hill with the smallest of rises as an overwatch, his sniper rifle strapped to his back. Dusty peered over at Skyscraper who drummed his fingers along the dual triggers to his grenade launcher. Dusty pumped his fist forward and he could see the grin even under the full mask the mercenary wore. Skyscraper lumbered up, bringing both barrels to bear and firing of a salvo. It was a wild one, considering he was running but it had an immediate effect. They turned their attention on them. Bullets flickered off the ground as Dusty ran forward and then took position pressed tight against the edge of the fountain.

"Tower, open up on them."

His orders were received as soon as he said Tower. The minigun roared, ripping through a few Morningstar as they tried to take cover behind the car. It blew sky high and landed on the one beside it. The group of Saints were adding their own fire power to the game. The Morningstar were caught between two fronts.

"Dusty, we got incoming. Looks like a Brute."

With a scowl he turned and went into a crouch, setting up the bipod and looking down the red dot sight to his LMG. Bigtop picked off the drivers and kept the others suppressed many feared the powers of a sniper rifle. All save the Brute that is. He had a minigun of his own and used it effectively. It roared against their vehicle and along the ground in front of the Saints.

"Skyscraper, knock him down!"

The constant thumping of the grenade launcher kept the Brute back from aiming precisely, not like it could anyway. Dusty let his LMG in on the action, sending a bloody line along the Brute's legs and knees, crippling it. A metallic click and then several failed grinding noises made him scowl. His LMG had jammed. In a smooth motion he slid to his feet and approached the Brute struggling to get to his knees. He fired a full clip into him and then another, then a third. The Brute stared up at him with dulling eyes.

"Stay down," he snarled, pulling the trigger and sending the Brute's brains along the ground.

The Morningstar seemed less reluctant now to charge. He kicked up a fallen thug's Krukov and emptied the clip into the vehicle as he made his way back to the LMG.

"Reloading." He heard Bigtop say over the comm.

A bold Morningstar agent jumped him then seeing the sniper fire had stop. Dusty scowled, weaving his head to the side and absorbing a blow into his cheek. He felt his teeth shake from the blow. He retaliated with a head butt and then slamming his elbow up into his neck. The man coughed and went to foolishly grip his neck. Dusty removed his combat knife from its sheath strapped to his thigh and buried it to the hilt into the man's chest. He stabbed twice more to be sure before throwing the corpse off before he sat up, gripping his LMG and letting loose once again into the now fleeing Morningstar.

"Alright, they're pulling back. Skyscraper, Bigtop, back to the jeep. Tower, how's the minigun?"

"Cooling down, but we're good, got no one in sight."

Dusty slid to his feet and slid back step by step, firing careful bursts from his LMG not wanting it to jam up on him again. He slid into the passenger seat and Bigtop dove into the backseat through the open door before slamming it closed. Skyscraper clambered onto the back, gripping it while strapping his grenade launcher down and pulling out his back up submachine gun.

"Get us out of here, Tower."

With a silent nod the jeep screeched away, not even a look given to the Saints. They did their job.

* * *

"…Holy shit."

Those were the only two words Pierce could say through their observation collecting ammo and money from the downed Morningstar. A cruel thing to do, but the Saints took whatever they can when they can. It was how they worked so well ever since Stillwater. The celebrity status was nice, but it only got you so far in the terms of respect. Someone had tipped off Morningstar where the Boss, Shaundi, Pierce and another Saint were. The forth member of their ragtag group was killed first as he tried to clamber out the driver side door. He was nothing but a bloody mess hanging from the window now. The Boss gripped her shoulder, wincing. Shaundi made a rough bandage with some scraps of the dead Saints' clothing but it still stung when she moved her shoulder. She was thankful it was a through and through.

The Boss pulled her phone out and waited for a moment.

"Yeah?" an annoyed tone answered.

"Kinzie, do me a favor, pull up the security cam vids from the last hour by the park. I'll be over in a minute."

"What is th-"

She hung up the phone and peered at her two lieutenants. "Go get some rest, need to talk to Kinzie about our new…friends."

"Right, Boss. We'll see you at the penthouse, ya?"

She gave a nod and broke into a car, a nice looking Raycaster and sped off. It didn't take her long to get to Kinzie's place and even less time to get into her own personal haven. She was typing away as usual and she had several screens open at once. She stopped typing for a moment and peered over her shoulder, noticing the Boss' own injury.

"You okay?"

"Fine, don't worry about it…What did you find in the video?"

"That your little band of heroes aren't with anyone. Seems like they're a third party, no Luchadore, Decker, or Morningstar influence. They're definitely military though."

"Anything else you can tell me about them?"

She sat down now beside Kinzie, wincing as her shoulder protested at the action. The ex-Bureau agent peered at her and then back to the screen. "They're a constant presence, have a few other videos of them too attacking all the Gangs they can find. Us included."

"But why did they save us then?"

"Maybe they didn't care for you at the time? Morningstar did have you guys dead cold."

"Kinzie!"

"Well they _did_!"

She sighed softly. "Yea, you're right… Would have been bloody pastes if it weren't for them."

"Have to admit though. They would make a good add—Uh oh."

"What?"

Kinzie blew up the most recent footage of them working at the park. She and Kinzie saw the same thing. A Morningstar specialist planted something underneath their jeep and ran off. The man on the minigun couldn't have noticed, he was too busy providing some backup for her and the Saints as well as the other mercenaries as they took their roles to heart. The pair exchanged looks. Kinzie's was surprised, and Boss' was worried.

"What do we do?"

The Boss thought about it for a moment. She could just let them blow up, but that would get rid of that wild card that kept the other gangs in check, with what evidence Kinzie presented of course. She could maybe sway their leader, it wouldn't be the first time she had to get a bit down and dirty to convince others. She was thankful though such things didn't require her to do anything drastic, just a few kisses and caresses and they were putty. She could do the same thing, but a deep pit of worry settled in her stomach. She couldn't fathom why. She stared hard at Kinzie who fidgeted under the venomous gaze.

"Track that jeep and call Pierce and Shaundi. I figure we might as well return the favor."

Kinzie meekly nodded and already the Boss was on her feet, checking the ammo for her .45 Shepherd and made her way to the car. A small smirk crawled along her face as she slipped into the car. Already she was eager for more bloodshed, a small fault in her mind, but one that got her into trouble more then once. Not that she cared, she was the Boss after all.


End file.
